It’s something new if you’ve never heard something old before- in the best way possible.
Despite the general overcrowding of the UK post-punk scene, Opus Kink cut their own silhouette with My Eyes, Brother!. Opus Kink are a UK based sextet, who released their debut EP, ‘Til The Stream Runs Dry, in June 2022 to critical acclaim. Four singles from their second EP have already been released, leaving us to wonder: is there anything good left? Short answer: yes. Long answer: well, keep reading.
Opus Kink wear their inspirations on their sleeves the way an atom bomb makes peace. That is, to say, a little bit violently. They take the dark swagger of Joy Division and drag it through the dirt, rough it up a bit, before layering it onto a track. The sneering vocals are there too, of course; the reach of The Sex Pistols being unavoidable in a UK punk band.
Album opener ‘Chains’ bounces in with a bassline, reminiscent of Fugazi’s ‘Turkish Disco’, that quickly turns to grime as tightly coiled guitars chime in. Call and response vocals darken the mood and dial up the tension. A trilling guitar break barely lets you catch your breath before a cacophony of horns crash in. Frantically slurred vocals break into screams and yelps, punctuated by yelling brass. The track cuts off suddenly, leaving you wanting more. What else could you ask for from the first track?
A song like ‘Dust’ is what separates Opus Kink from their contemporaries like Squid and Shame. Jazz layered over punk, layered over pure noise. Blasting, frantic horns reminiscent of Springsteen (if Springsteen did a bit more coke) screech hello by way of an introduction. Delightfully bumptious vocals join in, declaring ‘no-one's ever deserved more than you to be set free’ as horns, saxophone and drums whip up a frenzy. The song ends with a crash and a heavy implication, hidden amid groaned closing vocals, that if you like weird this might be your new favourite album.
‘Children’, like ‘Dust’, is another previously released single. Sam Abbo lays down another fantastic bassline for the rest of the band to dance along, or, if need be, degrade. Alongside the dark funkiness of the track another feeling emerges- that you’ve heard this before. The song itself is well planned and perfectly executed; however, we’re half way through the EP and the tracks are already starting to blur together.
Although summoned by my previous comment, an instrumental track is up next. ‘Tin of Piss’ breaks up the EP nicely with twinkling keys and glitched electronics.
‘Malarkey’ manages to do the impossible: pull off the quiet-loud-quiet structure without sounding like Pixies. Impressive. The track simmers down and ramps back up with a capricious flare. A hypnotic guitar riff and snappy drums draw you in, just to blow you away with screamed vocals and erratic horns. It’s dark, it’s hulking, it’s hiding in the corner and you almost want it to find you. It’s only a monster when the melody gets boring.
Opening with a joyous yell, ‘Piping Angels’ sounds like the most experimental of Leonard Cohen’s songs turned up to 11. The muttered vocals give way to desperate riffs and uneasy melodies. We even get a Jesus reference.
Closing track ‘1 : 18’ gears up with a delightful vocal crack, almost religious in its fervour. Pounded drums are joined by a rhythmic pulse of various other percussion and creeping guitar riffs. While lyrically all Opus Kink’s songs are worth a read, ‘1 : 18’ is particularly well crafted. The wave of noise Opus Kink manages to create grips onto the edge of melody as it screeches to a close.
Opus Kink aren’t reinventing themselves here; nor is there a particular need to. The band is talented and stand apart from their peers in new and unique ways. If you like one of their songs, you’ll love this entire EP; if you haven’t been their biggest fan and were hoping for a change of pace, look elsewhere. Dancing from shoulder to shoulder of rock, jazz and funk gods past, Opus Kink serves up frantic moodiness with a smirk.
